


Just What Was Needed

by felinedetached



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, and this is sibling bonding, shhhh Jaspers was her bff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-12-11 01:34:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11704053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felinedetached/pseuds/felinedetached
Summary: When Jaspers washed up on the riverbank, you cried.





	Just What Was Needed

**Author's Note:**

> To Ezzy and BQ, who inspired this, thank you so much for helping me.
> 
> [This](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/337639877527207936/342807045105254401/image.jpg) is my cat, Manky, who passed away last night. His death caused most of my inspiration for this, honestly.
> 
> In the end, I wrote this for him.

When Jaspers washed up on the riverbank, you cried. It was ugly, at first, as most cries are. Your own sobbing drowned out most of your thoughts, the only thing really  _ registering _ being the fact that your cat is dead. 

 

You told Jaspers so much. He’s your best friend, his adorable face always watching and his fur always velvet-soft. He never seemed to enjoy his suit, so you let him out sometimes when your mother wasn't looking. 

 

As what you presume is a result, he always seemed to like you best. But now he’s gone. Crushed to death by something in the river, left to wash up on the shore like an unwanted rag doll. Comparing him to an unwanted rag doll seems cruel, however, as he was never unwanted here.  You loved him so much.

 

The funeral was long and, whilst unnecessary, it was appreciated. Now you sit in your room, staring silently at the wall. Every once in awhile, your eyes drift to the picture of him you have sitting on your bedside cabinet. Whenever it catches your eye, a tear drifts down, quickly wiped away by an angry hand before you go back to staring blankly at the wall.

 

Crying hurts your eyes and throat. You don’t enjoy it.

 

It’s not long before your door creaks open, two figures caught in the doorway, seen through the corner of your eye. You blink, and your lashes temporarily obstruct your view, heavy with unshed tears. God, you’re so dramatic. Monologuing about people arriving will not make them come in or send them away.

 

Dirk moves into the room first, gently settling next to you on the bed. Roxy joins him soon after, closing the door and settling on your other side. You sniffle, wipe your nose with the back of your hand, and turn quickly to settle your face into Dirk’s chest, crying. You know you’re getting tears and snot all over his shirt in an irritatingly predictable and often romantic cliche, but you ignore it for now. Roxy shifts closer, her hand hovering carefully over your back until you nod permission. The circular motions are comforting, as is being sandwiched between your siblings in an affectionate display of solidarity.

 

“He was so young,” you whisper, hating how choked your voice is. It’s a sign of weakness, and you hate those. You have to be strong, intelligent, perfect, apathetic. Dirk just pulls you closer, tucking your head under his chin. Roxy whispers mumbled agreement, shifting closer yet again and continuing that soothing, soothing back rub.

 

Another pathetic sniffle forces its way out, and you lean back slightly to wipe your eyes and nose.

 

“It’s okay to cry, Rose,” Roxy says, her voice calming. Usually, you’d say her voice sounds like your mothers, but at Jasper’s funeral, her voice was grating, getting on your nerves as you sobbed in the front row. Roxy’s is nothing like that - it’s soothing, soft and warm, and you cry harder in response. She’s right, but your issue with crying is nothing about it being weak.

 

...

 

It may have something to do with being weak.

 

That and it hurts your throat, leaving it dry and raw, and hurts your eyes, the salt in your tears stinging the corners. Dirk’s support is wordless, his hug tightening. Honestly, together they’re just what you needed.

 

Eventually, you cry yourself out. When you finally lift your head from its resting place tucked against Dirk’s shoulder, Jasper’s picture doesn’t make you cry anymore. There’s still that sadness, but the extreme dryness of your eyes stops tears from falling any longer. You blink, slowly, hating the gummy feeling that comes after you’ve finished crying yourself out.

 

“Will you-” you pause, swallowing as your voice cracks and hating it, before trying again. “Will you stay with me?” finally getting the words out feels like admitting failure, but not as badly as failing to get those words out the first time had.

 

“Of course,” Dirk says, his voice soft. You notice he’s missing his shades, and curse the fact that you weren't aware of that earlier. The smile you offer takes a while, but you make it, turning slightly to look at Roxy as well.

 

“Sleep, Rose. You’ve gotta be exhausted,” she says, and you have to admit, she’s right. Crying takes a lot out of a person.

 

“Yeah,” you say softly, proud of yourself for managing without your voice cracking, “Okay.” Dirk slips quietly out of the pile, but Roxy lays herself down next to you.

 

“Promise I won’t leave,” she says, holding one of her pinkies in front of your face. You smile slightly, entwining your pinkie with hers.

 

“Thanks,” you whisper back, the hoarseness still evident in your voice making you wince. A glass is held above you - the first sign you get that Dirk’s come back. You’re surprised you didn’t hear his footsteps. Sitting up slightly, you take the glass, repeating your previous statement before taking a sip.

 

“Crying makes you dehydrated,” he explains, and you nod. This is something you know, but you also know he wants to explain it just to be sure. It’s cool, refreshing, and once you drain the whole glass you think you could probably cry again. It’s taken from your hands, placed gently on your bedside cabinet, next to Jasper’s picture.

 

Dirk’s weight settles on the bed next to you again, and he slides down so he’s resting in a half lean with you and Roxy. The exhaustion you received from your crying episode is slowly attempting to claim you again, so you snuggle closer to Roxy, feeling Dirk shift in behind you.

 

“Thanks, guys,” you say, yawning.

 

“No problem,” Roxy replies, slipping down to lie flat and taking you with her. Dirk follows soon behind. “It’s nice to spend time with you like this. Not in these circumstances, obviously, but we should just sit all snuggled up on the couch watching a movie sometime.”

 

“Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff?” Dirk asks, his voice sounding more eager than the accepting you would have expected.

 

“Why not,” you reply, yawning again. You hear what you think is a quiet ‘yes’, but you’re not entirely sure.

 

“Shhh,” Roxy says, running her hand through your hair, “Sleep, Rose. We’ll figure it out in the morning.”

 

And surrounded by your siblings, under the watchful eye of the spirit of your dead cat, that is exactly what you do.

 

The dark’s embrace is warm this time.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr is [@felinedetached](https://felinedetached.tumblr.com/)


End file.
